


They Don’t Always Hunt for Prey

by Chewxtoi



Category: J.M.Lee Dark Crystal Series, The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I take rare breaks, M/M, Short Chapters, Spoilers for JM Lee books, Unrequited Crush, Updates Daily, may be spoilers for ep8, might include Rian or Deet, spoilers for episodes up to Ep7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20683031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chewxtoi/pseuds/Chewxtoi
Summary: After SkekMal becomes fatally injured and captures Brea, he must make a choice; risk dying in the sands to get to the Castle of the Crystal, or visit an old friend.





	1. Old Friends and New Enemies

SkekMal’s thick blood seeped from his wounds and onto Brea’s, now worn, dress. His claws dug into her soft flesh in a death grip, the crystal sands thousands of feet below them and the sky-beast Rek’yr had called Bennu. That damned Dousan and his fearless devotion to Thra, to death. He should have killed him where he stood, instead of wasting another gelfling. He growled, making his captive cry out against his grasp. 

‘Unhand me Skeksis!’ She spat the name, her words carried weak against the swirling winds. Her free hand clawed against his grip, trimmed nails and soft fingers doing as much damage as a unamoth’s wings battering against his hand. 

‘Do you want to be dashed on the ground and buried in the sands?! You are my prize—‘ His growl was caught in his throat, blood trickling from his mouth as the arrows twisted in his guts and shoulder. Brea’s eyes widened. 

‘You’re going to die! Then we’ll both be buried!’ At her scream The Hunter pulled her close to his face, beak curled in a snarl. She kicked at him, tiny boots glancing off against his skull mask. SkekMal laughed loudly and deeply, blood flying off of his writhing tongue. 

‘Skeksis cannot die! We are forever immortal you insolent rat.’ Brea glared into his face, meeting his eyes. The gelfling princess looked quickly across his form, spotting one of the blood-soaked arrows that The Archer embedded into his body. Unfurling her translucent, gossamer wings with a shout she kicked towards it, the Hunter arching his beak back in a howl. The arrow broke, the head staying in his shoulder. His claws went to grip at the angry wound, Brea suddenly falling out of the air. She widened her wings, falling back from Bennu. ‘NO!!’ The Hunter’s roar rang against her ears. Her wind-swept hair covered her eyes, and through the wild locks she saw SkekMal’s agile body jump up, sprinting across the back of the beast, claws outstretched. Brea screamed as he seized her foot, wings flapping wildly in an unfair contest of strength. 

Bennu groaned as The Hunter’s feet dug into his back, dragging the princess back to the saddle. With his other claw he gripped one of her outstretched wings. His gaze was fiery, fangs bared. ‘Fold your wings or I’ll break them,’ he demanded. Brea struggled again, slamming down against Bennu. SkekMal stood over her, all four talons leaving her pinned against the mount. Blood dripped down onto Brea’s face and chest, teeth bared and torso heaving with quick breaths. At her silence, the Skeksis pushed her further into Bennu, wings slowly being crushed beneath her weight. The moog-bone charm that was Rek’yr’s dug into her neck, piercing her soft skin. She shouted, clutching at SkekMal’s claw that was pressed against her chest. 

‘Okay! Okay!’ The Hunter pulled her up to her feet and Brea folded her wings, wincing. He grabbed out a piece of rope, tying her hands across her back, holding onto the rest of the long length of rope with one talon. He coughed up more blood, settling down in the saddle again, Brea moved to sit in his lap. She cowered away from the dark, red fluid that splashed onto the saddle. ‘We will never reach the castle. You must know that.’ SkekMal looked down on her with one scarred eye, growling. His tongue flicked out of his beak and across his fangs. 

‘Fine gelfling,’ he rolled his shoulders, ‘that damn Archer,’ he mumbled, tail whipping behind him. ‘You are too precious a trophy to be forgotten under the sand.’ His growl was almost a whisper, but Brea still shuddered, his deep voice sending vibrations up her spine. She bit her tongue as Bennu turned, flying towards the second Sun. ‘I have an old friend that will help.’ 

Brea gulped.


	2. Hide the Pain

The third Sun was behind them and twilight was in front of them. Brea shivered against the wind, legs cramping and wrists stinging from the scratchy rope that was still held by the Hunter, SkekMal. His gaze was set upon the blank horizon, his talon loose on the reigns of Bennu. The princess shifted her position, the Skeksis growling at her, the rope twisting. 

‘Sorry! But I feel like I won’t be able to walk ever again. I can’t even feel my feet!’ Brea complained, SkekMal rolling his eyes underneath the skull. She lowered her head again, following his gaze to the horizon. Squinting, all she could see was mirages against the crystal sand. Her hands were suddenly pulled back, meeting face to face with her captor. 

‘Stand then Princess,’ his tongue slithered at the last word, finally relaxing his grip. Brea nodded at him, chest pounding. His eyes pierced hers until she looked away, gathering her legs underneath her. Without her hands she wobbled in place until her feet found purchase, the top of her head barely reaching The Hunter’s chest even with the raptor sitting. Brea huffed as she stretched her legs, toes flexing in her boots. She again looked across the sea. 

‘Where are we going?’ The Hunter hissed towards her question.

‘Somewhere where the hunt is always less interesting.’ He growled, looking towards her back. Brea looked behind herself at him, frowning. 

‘And what makes the hunt interesting?’ She jested, smiling despite herself. He sighed. 

‘High stakes.’ He motioned to the three arrows that pierced his body, one now almost impossible to see except for the glint of silver and dark stains of blood. Brea flinched. 

‘I saw that when you were shot The Archer bled as well,’ SkekMal opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off, ‘—and when you stabbed the Heretic, his friend, urGah clutched at his hand.’ Her voice turned cold, her gaze icy. He shook his head, huffing. The Hunter gazed at the gelfling. He could see where her wings met her back, shimmering still in the light. Her hair, windswept still but kept in her braids, flowed back over her shoulders. SkekMal fiddled with the end of the rope in his claws. 

‘The Skeksis and UrRu are connected. Whether we like it or not.’ 

‘The Heretic and the Wanderer showed us that they were two halves of one being, an UrSkek,’ Brea talked without looking at him. The rope started to fray from his claws, SkekMal nodding. 

‘You are smarter than you look gelfling.’ Brea rolled her eyes, yawning. The stars were beginning to show themselves, and without any of the suns the sky left them in almost complete darkness. The Hunter relaxed from his tense stance, without the gelfling’s sight she could not see the strain that his body was in. The wounds were starting to close around the arrows now, every small movement feeling like a stab from a StoneWood blade. He watched as Brea yawned again, her tiny body starting to sway. ‘Rest. You are no good as prey if you do not put up a fight,’ the Hunter bit is tongue, voice growing deep as he leaned closer to the princess, despite the strain it put on his body. Brea sucked in her breath, shoulders clenching. 

SkekMal stood, slower than he would have liked, and walked to the back of the saddle, leaving a loose length of rope between himself and his prisoner. Brea watched him intently, nodding when he was a safe distance. The Vapran slowly curled up in a crook in the saddle, keeping an eye on the Hunter for as long as she could, until she was slowly taken by sleep. 

SkekMal finally breathed. His breath was laboured, the arrows pushed deeper from his movement. The Princess could not see him like this. She could not see how weak he was after his battle. She could not see that Skeksis could be killed.


	3. Swirling Winds and Water

Brea cried out as tiny pieces of crystal swirled around Bennu, scraping her body and tangling her hair. The second sun was up, it’s light invisible as the giant crystal storm rushed around them. The Hunter, shocked awake by Brea’s cry, grabbed at his giant sword, jumping up. He yelled as his legs gave, the pain in his gut burning. Bennu faltered, sand covering his sight. The Hunter crawled towards the Princess, swords dug into the saddle, tail curled underneath his cloaks. 

‘Gelfling!’ His hand felt for the rope, growling when his claws found nothing. Brea clutched onto the saddle, head down, ears flat against her head. SkekMal roared as he jumped across the sky beast, talons landing just shy of the Princess, new blood whisked away by the deafening wind and sand. The Hunter grabbed the rope on her hands, pulling her towards him, curling his body around her. Brea shrunk further, feeling the push of an arrow shaft against her back. Her breathing became heavy and laboured, the storm still roaring around the pair. She could feel the drip of blood against her bound hands, hot and thick. 

The two huddled against the wind and the sky beast howled into the storm. Brea could feel the Hunter’s chest heaving, splashes of blood slipping from his wounds at every breath. Brea’s form shook and her hands sweat, the rope becoming looser and looser. Suddenly the rope slipped, the screaming of the storm leaving them, leaving them deaf in the silence. Bennu called out, gaining altitude again. Brea lifted her head slightly as the Hunter unfolded himself, landing on his tail behind her. Brea looked towards him. 

The arrows looked deeper, coated with fresh, steaming blood. The crystal sand had scraped a layer away from his broken skull mask, the uncovered area red with ripped skin. He held his wounds with three claws, and held the saddle with the free one. Brea shuffled closer towards him. 

‘You saved my life Hunter. Why?’ He looked up, fangs bared towards Brea. 

‘I cannot…’ he spat blood, ‘..have my leverage die...you will help me survive.’ He reached out one boney claw, ‘down there.’ Brea’s eyes widened as she looked down. Clear, aqua lakes bubbled and steamed in the midst of a forest of desert trees and crystal shards. She could barely see the sand coloured houses, and the ant sized Dousan gelfling clan that roamed and ran errands in amongst the oasis. 

‘What is that place?’ She leaned over the edge of Bennu, eyes glittering. The Hunter averted his gaze from those deep dark eyes. He could not be charmed by another gelfling, especially the princess of the Vapra. He cleared his throat. 

‘It’s the Wellspring Oasis,’ SkekMal rose up, going towards the sky beasts reigns. Brea watched him. 

‘Rek’yr spoke of this place.’ At the Dousan’s name, SkekMal growled. ‘You know him?’ They met eyes. The Hunter could see how her eyes lit up at his name, how she twirled her hair between her fingers. 

‘He _is_ the old friend,’ SkekMal mumbled as he took the reigns, Bennu starting to curve towards the ground. Brea sat back onto the saddle, absentmindedly rubbing her reddened wrists. Her heart was in two pieces. While she was excited to see the charming, charismatic, handsome—she smiled before shaking her head—Sandmaster, she was also worried for her friend; how would he react to the Hunter, especially since he was her captor. She shivered even though the suns blazed behind them.


	4. One step closer

As Bennu slowly descended towards the landing grounds of the Wellspring oasis the Hunter flattened himself against the saddle. Brea hovered just behind him, heart beating faster and faster. As the sky beast approached the ground, SkekMal turned his masked beak towards the princess. 

‘You must find Rek’yr. I cannot be seen by the gelfling down there,’ he hissed. Brea rubbed her hands together, pressing her nails into her palms. Her gaze hardened. 

‘And what if I don’t Skeksis? You’re injured and I could call the entire Dousan Clan to help me,’ Brea sputtered, SkekMal’s beak turning in a snarl. As the gelfling placed her now unbound hands on her hips, the Hunter spun around, holding Brea up in the air with a claw, reaching from beneath his clothes with the other. As she cried out, breath pushed from her lungs, his sword was brought to her neck with a flourish. 

‘Then you’re nothing more than dead weight and I’ll kill you right where you stand. Right now.’ Blood seeped down to his feet. They stared into each other's eyes until the princess’ ones slipped to the side, shoulders falling limp in the Skeksis’ grasp. She was dropped to her feet again, SkekMal taking up the reigns once again. She breathed in deep. 

‘Fine. I will find Rek’yr for you—but,’ she cut off her captor as he opened his mouth to speak, ‘—on one condition. That you will stop hunting me and my friends after you are healed.’ SkekMal rolled his eyes. Brea held out a hand towards him. He took one hand from the reigns, hesitating before her. His thin tongue slivered over his beak, eyes searching. Reluctantly he grabbed her tiny, soft hand in his talon. Absentmindedly his shoulders relaxed at her touch, tail settling from its normal, rhythmic flicking. He could see the tiny smile on his prize’s face, the way her eyes glowed—he suddenly broke his hand away from hers, moving to face the reigns. He could hear the gelfling gasp, then mutter to herself. His tail flicked from side to side. 

Then, he started as Bennu suddenly stopped his descent, hovering above the ground. Brea stood behind him, moving for the ladder that attached to the side of the saddle. The Hunter looked down at the arrows, then at the drop between the mount and the ground. He could hear gelfling’s call to Bennu, recognising him as Rek’yr’s mount. Brea unlatched the ladder, it spiralling down until it reached the floor. SkekMal’s breath hitched, placing a claw between the princess and the way down. More and more gelfling’s voices sounded below them. 

‘Wait Princess. They know it is Rek’yr’s mount.’ Brea frowned. 

‘Well then they can lead me to him,’ she reasoned as she started to move around his hand. The Hunter then clutched at her, holding the gelfling in place. Brea whimpered. 

‘You do not understand gelfling. I cannot die here,’ his piercing eyes bored into hers. She gulped. 

‘What is your plan then?’ She huffed. The Hunter grinned under his mask. Brea cried out as she was hoisted into SkekMal’s arms, talons holding her close to his body. Tail swishing, he looked down at the gathering of Dousan. One was starting to climb the wooden ladder, almost falling when spotting the both of them. All of the gelfling called out in alarm as the Hunter ran the length of Bennu’s wings. Brea’s eyes widened and she buried her head against the Skeksis as he leaped, crashing down onto the ground moments later. She heard screams and the laboured breath of her captor as he carried her, running from the crowd and into the streets of the Wellspring Oasis. 

A sharp turn here, a stunned gelfling there, a sprint through a shallow pool of hot water, and the Hunter breathing only grew heavier. Brea was whipping her head around, looking out for the familiar face of Rek’yr among the streets. She could hear the quickened footsteps of Dousan gelfling behind them. SkekMal growled. 

‘Hold on.’ Brea clutched at the Hunter’s fabrics as he leapt from the ground onto the nearest roof, crouching down as low as possible, the gelfling again wrapped in his arms beneath him. Brea’s ears twitched as she heard voices from down below. 

‘I swear I saw a great beast jump from the Sandmaster’s mount. He came running this way.’ Another answered: ‘we only heard the commotion. We saw no creature pass us.’ A female’s voice ran out in the sea of voices, ‘I saw a creature! It was carrying something. Something much smaller than it.’ SkekMal’s breathing was almost nonexistent, his whole body tensing up. They both waited in silence while the gelflings down below talked and called out. 

Why didn’t she just call out to them? They could overpower the Hunter and release her. But then she thought of the Archer. She bit her lip and said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was late! I was at a fair all of today!


	5. His

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra long chapter today to make up for yesterday!

The gelflings’ voices grew louder and louder, footsteps running from every direction. Brea looked out from under the Hunter, her eyes wide. She gasped when one of his claws reached for his great sword, the hiss of it almost too quiet for her ears to catch. She put her hand on it. 

‘What are you doing? You can’t go down there,’ she whispered. The Hunter snarled at her and still holding onto the blade, he hid it again underneath his cloaks. She placed her attention back onto the crowd. They were starting to call to someone; a single pair of footsteps were approaching now from the side. A deep, controlled voice questioned the gathered gelfling, words unintelligible from all the others. They quietened. 

‘Sandmaster! Your mount had come back without any sign of you or your companions—‘ they were cut off, ‘And then I saw a beast leap from it, running through the streets like the wind, none of us could keep up.’ Brea’s breath caught in her throat. 

‘Do not worry. Bennu would never carry anyone but myself or my friends. I’m sure what you saw was merely an illusion—‘, mumbles and shouts sounded at the gelfling’s words. He cleared his throat, ‘—or a beast of the crystal sands that had taken to my mount and then ran when you gelfling approached it. It has happened before.’ The Vapran could hear the crowd start to disperse and the Hunter breathed out. He released his grip on his weapon, storing it again in its sheath. Minutes passed as all the Dousan gelfling left to return to their duties and errands. SkekMal sniffed the air before his body relaxed again. 

‘SkekMal. I know you are here. Where are you?’ The Sandmaster called out softly, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. The Hunter stood up, taking Brea into his arms again. Growling, he jumped from the roof of the sandstone building, the Princess letting out a cry as he hit the ground with a slam. The Dousan turned to face them, eyes widened in shock as he saw the princess. SkekMal dropped Brea, the Vapran landing on her feet, as he went to one knee, blood dripping from his beak. 

‘Princess! Get away from him right now,’ Rek’yr warned, putting out a hand for Brea. She looked back towards SkekMal, her brow knitting. 

‘He needs help Rek’yr! The Archer shot him,’ she explained, putting a hand on one of his claws. The Hunter looked down at her from under his mask, then at her hand. It was so small compared to his talon. He gnawed his teeth. He closed his eyes tight at the thought of her delicate fingers crushed by another. SkekMal fought the urge to hold it close to his weathered palm. 

Rek’yr walked closer towards the two of them, hand moving to his sword on his belt. Brea lifted her hand off of the Skeksis, moving to meet her friend. Her eyes softened as he took her hand, Rek’yr moving it towards his mouth, giving it a delicate kiss. Her cheeks blushed, eyes lighting up. The Hunter growled at himself, chest growing hot and tight. 

‘You are safe now Princess,’ he placed himself between her and the Hunter, ‘you say he is injured?’ His hand clasped his weapon. Brea gasped, grabbing at his arm. 

‘You can’t kill him! If he dies the Archer dies!’ Rek’yr looked between them. The Hunter roared, startling both of them. 

‘Don’t you dare speak that creature’s name! I have never been connected to him. I am The Hunter!’ He pointed to himself, claw meeting with his chest. With his other hand he reached for his sword, his feet struggling to gain balance as he stood. Rek’yr brandished his blade now, pushing Brea behind him. She groaned.

SkekMal’s sword shook in his grasp, blood splattering onto the ground. Rek’yr stepped back, hesitating. Suddenly, the Skeksis crumpled to the ground, blade clattering against the sandstone path. Brea cried out, running over towards her hunter. Rek’yr placed his blade back at his side, walking up to the Hunter. 

‘We will take him to my abode. Can you walk SkekMal?’ The Skeksis growled, reaching for his blade with one hand. He placed his beneath him as he found his footing again, resting on the sword for support. Rek’yr nodded.

The three of them slowly made their way across the town, Rek’yr diverting the wandering gelfling away from them, Brea watching from behind. The Hunter kept his eyes on the ground. How humiliating. For his prey to see him like this was torture. His tail swished aggressively behind him, claws clenched on his sword and at his side. 

The suns started to dip below the horizon as Rek’yr finally stopped in his tracks, the Skeksis and gelfling almost running into him. He opened the doors, ears and eyes searching before he ushered them inside with a wave of his hand. As soon as the doors shut SkekMal’s blade was thrown to the side, his body falling to the ground. Brea rushed to his side, looking over the deepened arrow shafts. Rek’yr rolled up his sleeves, crouching beside Brea. 

‘You may want to look away Princess,’ the Dousan warned. Brea shook her head quickly, braids flying side to side. 

‘I will stay. I can handle it,’ she shot a soft glare at Rek’yr. He smiled. 

‘Of course, my desert flower.’ Brea blushed, ears flattening to the side of her head. She watched Rek’yr as his brow furrowed, his gaze moving to the Hunter. Her eyes softened as his hardened, tongue coming out to wet his lips. She looked upon his markings, the blue glittering in the evening light. She relaxed her body for the first time in what felt like a trine.

Then she heard a squelch. A ripping of flesh. The Hunter clasped at the ground, crying out in a roar. Her head whipped towards him. Rek’yr clasped an arrow in his hand, placing it slowly onto the floor. The Hunter snarled at the two of them. 

‘Calm down.’ Rek’yr pet SkekMal’s claw for a moment, before standing and moving to the other side of the Hunter. Brea watched, eyes glued to the scene despite herself, her jaw clenched. Rek’yr’s fingers prodded his shoulder, near the bloodied fabric. He sighed in thought, the Hunter growling. Brea looked to the ground as her friend found the shortened stump of the arrow shaft. She looked up again as her ears picked up the familiar sound of a blade being drawn. 

‘What are you doing?’ She whispered. Rek’yr started to cut away at the layers of fabric before answering. 

‘This one is driven deep. And it’s been broken. I will not be able to pull it out.’ As the wound was exposed from under the Hunter’s dress, Brea instinctually reached out for his claw, wrapping her tiny hands around it. SkekMal’s body froze up at her touch, his heart beating. He wrapped his talon around her, watching Rek’yr with one half-opened eye. The sword glinted in the light as it was directed towards the arrow. Suddenly it was dug into the wound. Brea closed her eyes as the Hunter’s breath hitched, the blade starting to slice the flesh, loosening the arrow. 

With one swift motion the arrow was removed, both it and the blade being brought to the ground. The Hunter arched his neck, breathing heavily. Brea rubbed her fingers against the back of his talon, directing her eyes towards the third arrow. Rek’yr sighed and stood again. 

He patted the Hunter’s thigh. ‘You need to roll to your side.’ Brea moved from him as SkekMal moved his body to expose the last bolt, the Princess taking her hands from his grasp. He clenched his teeth as he felt the arrow twitch, the Dousan taking it in his hand. He pulled-the arrow ripping out. With that, the Hunter again collapsed onto his back, tail still, chest heaving The two gelfling walked towards each other, Rek’yr wiping his bloodied hands on his pants. He looked towards the princess. 

‘Did he hurt you?’ She shook her head, gaze moving back towards her captor. ‘You are stronger than I thought. Surviving SkekMal is truly an honorable feat,’ he took her hands, ‘at least to me.’ Brea laughed softly, her eyes widening in remembrance.

‘Your charm must work then.’ With a smirk she fetched the Moog-bone necklace from beneath her dress. Rek’yr moved closer to her. 

The Hunter’s tongue roved over his fangs as he watched the two gelfling talk softly from beneath half-closed eyes. With the arrows removed, hot burning pain was crashing over him in waves, replacing the tolerable dull thudding of old wounds. With the familiar pain came a new one; his chest burned as he saw Rek’yr fawn over _his_ prey, _his_ prize, _his_—

His mind whirred over the word. His.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also why is Rek’yr kind of hard to write dialogue for??


	6. Charms

SkekMal struggled into a crouch, tail swishing around on the ground. His pain had subsided to a more mellow burning, like he had his claw suspended over a small flame. He looked around the tall room, ceiling rising far above his head. Draperies of different fabrics were hung about the room, crystals from the desert reflecting the light from the sister moons as they dangled from the ceiling. He recognised this place. While it was more decorated now, this is where he and Rek’yr would rest after a day of hunting, both sorting meat from bone and guts to make charms or trophies. His hand went to rest on his belt, and on the assortment of skulls that rested there. 

Growling, he took his blade from where it had dropped to the floor, admiring its immortal polished edge. He brandished it for a second, feeling what kind of strain his movements put on his new wounds. His shoulder and ribs burned and he set the sword down with a ring. His breath laboured, tail flicking. He placed the blade in its sheath again, the room suddenly becoming deathly silent. He sighed in defeat. His clawed feet started to walk the familiar path of the building, towards the sleeping chambers that he and Rek’yr had shared when they hunted together. 

The door to Rek’yr’s chambers creaked open, the Hunter ducking under the, high by gelfling standards, door frame. He spotted the Dousan’s eyes staring at him, reflecting the glinting moonlight that came from a mosaic window. SkekMal settled on the floor next to the bed, the two meeting eyes. 

‘How are your wounds?’ Rek’yr asked, words dry. The Skeksis snarled, looking down at the bloodied marks. 

‘They will not stop the hunt,’ the Hunter’s eyes flitted to the side, his mark, Rian, coming to the front of his mind. Rek’yr sighed, letting his legs drop to hang over the side of his bed. 

‘You were always dedicated to your mark,’ Rek’yr’s brow furrowed in a soft glare, ‘and that I admired. Before I realised your true nature,’ the gelfling clutched at the bed sheets, ‘that is why I must ask. Why did the princess survive?’ The Hunter snarled, fidgeting with one of his trophies. 

‘I could not leave empty handed from my hunt. And then,’ he motioned to the arrows, ‘I needed her to convince you.’ Rek’yr frowned. 

‘So you were using her.’ SkekMal clutched at his blade underneath his cloaks. At his silence Rek’yr nodded sharply, eyes piercing his. ‘I know too well your charm. I will not let her out of my sight while you heal.’ SkekMal snarled, pointing his now, unsheathed, blade at the gelfling. 

‘She is mine!’ Rek’yr did not hesitate. 

‘She is no one’s. She is Thra’s just as all gelfling are.’ 

SkekMal rose from his crouch, unfolding his other pair of arms, both brandishing daggers. 

‘You were mine once! If you take her from me...your head will be mine too!’ Rek’yr met the Skeksis hard eyes with his own neutral ones. 

‘I could have never been yours. In the end, my body and mind belongs to Thra.’ With a roar the Hunter strode out of the chamber, tail swishing quickly across the ground, arms folding back to his side. His feet unconsciously took him to a familiar, secluded corner. He crouched down into it, almost invisible in the darkness. With one claw he took a handful of bones from one pouch, with the other a line of dried leather. 

That Dousan had tried to claim her with a charm. So pitiful. She was his whether they showed it or not. Even so, the Hunter’s tongue squirmed as he concentrated, the tiny bones held so delicately in his palm as he whittled them into beads.


	7. Gifts for two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being patient!

The morning light came through the mosaic window, bright dashes of colour laying on Brea’s face. She sat up quickly, seeing a shadow at the door. Rek’yr was sat beside the door frame, blade in hand. The Dousan stood as the Vapran sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her bed to stand. Her eyes flitted to the sword, Rek’yr starting at it. He placed it back quickly inside its sheath and Brea took a breath. 

‘The dawn awaits princess,’ he held out a hand for her, ‘the market stalls of the oasis hold everything from exotic foods to handcrafted jewellery and it would be my pleasure to take you.’ Brea giggled, before placing a hand over her mouth, her other clutching at her worn and bloodied garments. 

‘First-I need to change into something a little more presentable.’ Rek’yr nodded quickly and walked from the room, arms stiff beside him. Brea could almost see the darkened scarlet on his aqua-tinted cheeks. Outside, Rek’yr waited, fiddling with his hands. 

Brea looked about the room. A new set of clothes rested at the foot of her bed. The Dousan blues and yellows were a vast contrast to the Vapran garments she was used to seeing, the colours deep and rich. It was even different from the casual Dousan outfits as they were created to be worn out on the sands, every fabric made for camouflage. She pulled them on and the ends stretched to the floor. While she couldn’t bathe—she didn’t even know if the Dousan wasted water to clean themselves, or, like some fizgigs (and Grotten), they bathed in dust or sand—clean clothes were a vast improvement. She gathered some of the cloth to her sides, allowing the bottoms of her worn court boots to be seen. 

Rek’yr watched the princess appear from the door frame, draped in the finest garments he could find in his abode, her small hands running through her soft hair frantically, petting it down. A chill ran up his spine as they locked eyes. His gaze flitted to her neck, the simple charm he gave her adorning it. He lifted a hand for her, Brea taking it in her own, her polite smile reaching her long ears. Rek’yr reached down to pick up a satchel that slumped next to the doorframe, then the two gelfling walked towards the doors together, the wind charms and bustle of the city sounding just outside them. 

SkekMal creeped out from hiding, holding the charm protectively underneath his robes. He heard the gelfling chatter, and the quiet pitter-patter of their feet against the sandstone flooring. He stopped just short of the edge of the light, catching them next to the front doors, hand in hand. He clasped at the charm tighter, fangs grinding. 

Brea looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes met with the familiar red glint of the Hunter’s. She flashed him a tiny smile before she was led out into the oasis. 

The two gelfling headed to the markets—towards the heart of the Wellspring oasis. The stalls, hosted by all sorts of gelfling from all clans, and some by Podlings, circled a central, steaming, crystal clear hot spring. In the middle of the pond a giant crystal shard struck out from the sands, its side engraved with the symbol of the Dousan. 

‘Are you hungry?’ Brea nodded without thinking. Then she caught herself. She really had not eaten for days—the last meal they had had was from Kylan, with his traditional Spriton brew. She grumbled to herself. She really should have eaten what the Heretic and the Wanderer had offered them, even if it had looked and smelt strange. She looked back down at her feet. That was one of the last times that she had seen Rian or Deet. Or Hup. Oh and Lore. She hadn’t awoken him. 

Rek’yr frowned, tightening his grip on her delicate hands. 

‘Do not fret, my desert flower, there are many types of delicacies, even Vapran breakfasts.’ Brea breathed deeply, ears perking up. She was led by Rek’yr through the roads and alleys of the market, merchants calling to her in gelfling and Podlings language. The Sandmaster picked up a meal for them both; a traditional Dousan breakfast of spiced desert fruits, as Brea looked at another stall across from the way. Thick coins clinked against each other, and gelfling children ran through the paths. A fizgig barked at their feet, Brea throwing him one of her fruits. Rek’yr’s bag quickly filled, and his pockets quickly emptied as they wandered, eating as they walked. The Vapran watched with wide eyes as Rek’yr bartered with one seller; a Drenchen with short hair placed in cornrows surrounded by herbs and fruits. The Drenchen pointed to Rek’yr’s bag, and back at one of her products, holding out a palm. 

His hand disappeared into it, searching blindly while the gelfling’s fingers tapped on the front of her stall. After a quick exchange and a hearty handshake, Rek’yr walked back over to the princess, holding a pot in one hand, and a stuffed bag of strong smelling herbs in the other. Brea tilted her head. 

‘Medicine. And a tea. Though I’m sure that that will not be of any help,’ he smiled softly, before shaking his head and placing the two products inside his satchel.

‘Do you not have medicine at your home?’ Rek’yr shook his head, taking the Princess’ hand in his own once more. Brea shifted her eyes.

‘May I ask you a question?’ 

‘Yes. Anything,’ Rek’yr met her eyes.

‘How do you know the Hunter?’ He looked away, his stride slowing. 

‘We hunted together trines ago. I had hoped to never see him again. Though we had found each other when he was trailing after your party,’ Rek’yr looked to the side, and for a second Brea thought she could see a silvery scar on his temple, before he met her eyes again, smiling.

As they made their way closer and closer towards the centre of the markets, Brea noticed a lonely stall surrounded by crowded ones. The Gelfling’s fair hair mirrored the Princess’ own Vapran lineage, though the tough eyes and blue-green tint to their forehead showed the strength of a Stonewood. The two gelfling locked eyes for a moment across the crowd, Brea losing sight of the stall as soon as they rounded a corner. The suns turned the day to afternoon as they finally faced the giant hot spring in the centre of the markets, and the centre of the Wellspring Oasis. She could see children playing in the shallows, and wives and mothers washing garments in the crystal clear water. 

‘This oasis is said to be the only remnant of the Crystal sea that once dried here,’ Brea looked in awe as she crouched, ‘some other clans believe it to the Fountain of Life, but all Dousan know that is just a myth based on their fear of death.’ 

‘What do you believe it to be?’ Rek’yr blinked. He saw how the water reflected onto the Brea’s features in a swirling pattern of blues and golds. Her hair, while no longer in the delicate braids it was in before, was draped over her back, stopping where her beautiful wings rested. The inquisitive smirk that lit up her face held his gaze in an impossible grip. The world took on a pink hue. 

‘The thing that ties me to Thra,’ he almost whispered as he gazed at her… Catching his breath once more he added, ‘the oasis is what ties me to Thra. It is a piece of Thra and a piece of my being.’ Brea smiled, her ears perking up. 

They both talked quietly at the oasis while the suns lazily stretched across the sky. Suddenly Brea stood, Rek’yr breaking off in the middle of his sentence. 

‘Excuse me. There is something I must do. Stay here,’ she smiled at her friend, hurrying off back into the crowd. She followed its organised chaos until she once again met eyes with the lone gelfling she had laid eyes on before. He was carving at something without looking, his hands doing all the work. Brea strode over to him, the gelfling putting down his work and knife. 

‘What’s a Vapran doing all the way out here? You got sick of Ha’rar?’ He leaned over the front of the stall. Brea scoffed. He rolled his eyes, looking at her up and down. ‘So are you gonna buy something?’ Brea finally took notice of his wares. Sculpted and carved bones of all shapes and sizes were hung and displayed all over his market stall. She spotted a two pronged flute in between a necklace and what seemed to be a dream catcher. It looked familiar. The gelfling followed her gaze. ‘It’s modelled after the Spriton instrument, though it sounds completely different.’ He shrugged. Her eyes shifted from the flute to a giant skull in the back. It was a skull of a predator, carved with what looked like gelfling symbols, some unknown to her. 

‘How much for the flute,’ the Vapran-Stonewood took it down from its hanging and placed it onto the table, ‘and the skull?’ She pointed to the back. The gelfling sighed. 

‘That piece is unfinished...you can’t possibly want—‘

Before he could finish, Brea delicately placed a glinting piece of metal in front of the seller. His eyes widened. Her bronzed tiara glowed in the afternoon light. 

The Princess’ arms were heavy with the bag that held the gifts. Rek’yr had offered to carry it for her so she had teased him and now they walked back to their housing in comfortable silence. Brea’s heart raced and the grip on her bag grew ever tighter as they got closer. 

Her two gifts clinked against each other.


	8. Gifts from two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so patient! I had no idea whether or not I would update this again but I’ve recently read the books by J.M.Lee which has given me new motivation since I really want to write about the book characters!  
Sorry if you haven’t read the books as there are some spoilers for it, and the two different timelines are a little confusing but I hope that it’s not too confusing for anyone. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Brea held the flute in one hand, the skull resting atop her thighs as she sat in her temporary chambers. She hadn’t seen any sign of the Hunter when the couple returned from their market errand. It was almost as if he had never been there in the first place. After returning to her room she had taken off most of the outer, heavier layers of her garments, she wasn’t sure why the Dousan had to wear so much cloth, especially with the heat of the crystal desert; it was more layers than even a Vapran in Ha’rar would don. Brea looked to the side, eyes narrowed. Her fingers rubbed against the bone of the two pronged instrument. She sighed and stood, placing the flute inside a fold of cloth on the bed, leaving it there as she carried the skull into the main chamber. 

The Hunter closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the image of the two gelflings, their petite hands folded over each other. He growled to himself in his protective corner, skull discarded to the side, his bone armour placed tight in a bundle. Tail curled around his ankle, his claws clutched at the charm. The bone beads of his first kill clinked against each other on the leather rope, something he’s always kept close to his heart, underneath the layers of cloth. A piece of crystal, shaped to copy the facets of the Crystal of Truth, shone as it dangled from the end of it, the twinkling light reflecting off of the Hunter’s scarred face. He lifted his head suddenly as his sensitive ears picked up the soft pattering of a gelfling’s footsteps. He breathed in, finding a familiar scent. A mix of soft snow, fresh ink and paper, and of the desert sun and sands. The Silverling Princess. 

Brea stepped almost silently through the house. Rek’yr was a skilled tracker, or so she gathered from what she had discerned about his life so far, and she wanted to keep out of his earshot as he rested in his own quarters. Her ears couldn’t pick out any unusual noise from the house, or the outside, and all she could smell was gelfling. She frowned, deciding to hum a tune, not dissimilar from the one that her friends had played for her mother, the All-Maudra. Quiet on the outside, the song reverberated in her ears and throat. Surely the Hunter, with his hearing far better than a gelfling’s, would be able to hear her. Brea walked all about the house, looking into every shadow for red eyes and a swishing tail. Skekmal watched from his high corner as the princess roamed the house, holding something wrapped in her arms. He could hear he delicate voice hum a tune that softened his eyes and calmed his twitching tail. Tucking his armour safely away, along with his broken skull mask, he jumped down from his hiding place, landing behind the gelfling. 

Brea jumped, the tune coming to an abrupt end. She struggled to keep the wrapped gift in her arms, dazed. Both the Skeksis and the Vapran locked eyes. Brea gasped. She had never seen him without his mask before. His snout was pocked with scars of all sizes, his eyes watching her gaze at his face. Skekmal straightened, looking down.

“You called me,” he growled, stalking around Brea, tail brushing against the sandstone floor. 

“Well..” she stuttered, before shaking her head, shining hair swishing, “I noticed that your mask had been cracked..when I,” Skekmal huffed, “kicked at you.” She got a better grip on the skull in her arms. “I also wanted to thank you for not killing me..and saving me from that storm,” her eyes grew hard, “even if you hurt my friends and kidnapped me.” 

“Is that all?” His grip grew tighter on the charm he carried underneath his cloaks. Brea glared at him for a moment before lifting up the object in her arms. The Hunter, after glancing at her, picked it up with his claws, unwrapping the fabric from it carefully. His eyes widened. His tongue roved over his teeth. Growling, in a swish of quick movement he haphazardly placed the charm in one of the gelfling’s open hands, before jumping out of sight into shadow, making his way back up to his hiding spot in a quiet that only a predator could achieve. Brea shook herself from her frozen state, releasing her held breath. She stuck her tongue out in the direction that the Skeksis ran off to, before looking down at the object in her hands. 

It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. Tiny white beads were threaded onto a thin piece of leather, with a sparkling gem hanging from the end. It had a loop at the top, where it could be threaded onto another piece, or a belt. She took a closer look at the gem, turning it over in her fingers. It was a tiny Crystal of Truth, before it was corrupted by the Skeksis. With her other hand she touched the necklace of Moog bones. Both pieces felt familiar. They felt warm. They felt like they held something; a flame, both burning just as bright as the other. Her brow furrowed and her eyes searched, fingers caressing both charms. 

The Hunter looked down at the skull in his rough hands. He glanced at his old skull, now half broken, and scarred, just like his face. His stomach grew heavy. His face. He had shown the Princess his face. Placing the mask down as softly but as quickly as he could, he reached up to cover his muzzle with his hands, eyes glued shut. Curling over himself, his tail lashed out wildly. 

Rek’yr’s long ears strained, first hearing the soft song of the Vapran Princess, then the muffled voices of both Brea and the Hunter. A battle clashed in his mind; he knew SkekMal wouldn’t dare hurt her, but he was still a dangerous creature, possibly the most dangerous in all of Thra. His rough hands clutched at the material of his pants, heart beating faster as a sudden silence fell over the chambers of his oasis home. He stood then, hand tensing on the bone hilt of his knife. He ran to the entrance of the bedchamber, his skill in hunting making his movement silent against the perpetually sandy floor.

But before taking another step around the corner, he bumped noses with Brea. The Princess looked up at him, then at his knife. ‘I thought you remembered that I don’t need protection. SkekMal is nothing more than a big lizard.’ 

‘Many lost gelfling would beg to differ,’ he said, helping her onto her feet. He gestured for her to enter the bedroom, taking one last look out before following her in. They sat across from each other on the floor, the afternoon light from the suns against their backs. Rek’yr sighed. ‘I do not judge you for seeking him. You are stronger than many others I know, and he, luckily I may add, has a strange fondness for you. I know of his charms, how they would enrapture a gelfling so I ask myself every day. But you must not be fooled Princess. He is still a hunter-so he is titled. He only hunts for prey.’ Rek’yr rested his hand on her own. ‘I learned this the hard way. You must be wiser than myself.’ Brea stared at him, mouth ajar. 

‘I hope to be wiser in who I choose as my friends. SkekMal has something inside him. He isn’t only a skeksis, just as the mystics aren’t only mystics. SkekGra found himself and his other half; I hope that I can help SkekMal find it too.’ Rek’yr looked at the gelfling before him. The wind swirled around her, the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Thra’s call pulled him towards her, a magnet to metal. Her hair was like gold in the sun’s light, her eyes gazing towards him in determination. He couldn’t dare to contest her conviction. 

‘I have much respect for you, Brea.’ He looked at his hands. ‘I know Thra agrees with you. If you truly believe that skeksis can change their nature...no matter what history has taught us..I want to look towards the future with you. No matter what that future holds. Even if we all return to Thra. I want to spend that future with you by my side.’ The two gelfling locked eyes. Brea’s fair skin took on a rose hue. 

‘Dreamfast with me.’ She held out a hand. Despite her boldness, her hand shook. The last gelfling that had touched her mind, had experienced what she had experienced, was her mother. The All-Maudra, now returned to Thra. Her heartbeat pounded as Rek’yr closed his hand around her own. Then they were in the Dream Space. Visions of their lives flashed. Brea laughing as Tavra chased Seladon with a play sword. Rek’yr finding a young crystal skimmer and nursing her back to health. Brea watching the tithing from the library windows. Rek’yr fighting his first sandstorm. Brea watching her mother be stabbed by the General. Rek’yr watching his crew being killed by the Hunter. Brea meeting with SkekGra. Rek’yr meeting with Naia. A crystal spider. A wounded Mystic. A valley. 

They both gasped awake. Their hands lingered for a moment longer before separating. Brea’s brow furrowed. 

‘You met Naia?’ Rek’yr nodded. Brea inched closer towards him. ‘Was there a Vapra with them? Looks like me but taller. With armour?’ 

‘I had met them here before they met up with you. Naia and Kylan healed our sacred place. But I’m sorry. This must be your sister? There was no Vapra with them. It was only the gelfling that were with you when you sent off your mother, and another-a Grottan. Silver haired, fair skinned. On his shoulder he carried a crystal spider.’ Brea shook her head. 

‘Thank you Rek’yr. I will just have to hold onto the hope that she can take care of herself.’

‘I am sure she is safe. If she is anything like you, then I am sure she can protect herself.’ His gaze softened towards her. He finally saw the losses that troubled her. Her own mother, massacred in her own palace. The eldest sister, leaving her to be at the skeksis’ side. The other disappeared off the face of Thra. ‘At the end of this war stricken path, all gelfling are one. The fires are being lit. At the end we will all join together in healing the crystal and the skeksis’ crimes.’ He squeezed her soft hand. ‘The ones we lose are always here. In the Dream Space. They never truly leave us while we can Dreamfast and Dream-stitch their memory.’ A soft silence fell over the pair, Brea’s breathing calming, her heartbeat leaving her ears. Then she sat up straight, fiddling with something behind her. 

‘I got you this. As a gift.’ In her palms rested a firca. A beautifully crafted one. Rek’yr hesitated, but then delicately took it from her. 

‘This firca, crafted after the legendary bellbird firca, which Kylan holds. It is what called me to you.’ He traced along its etchings. ‘The two ends, while separated, each playing two separate notes, come together. As one.’ He looked into Brea’s eyes. They met hands once again. His gaze trailed to her soft lips. Then to a beaded charm attached to the moog bone necklace he had gifted to her. His blood suddenly ran cold. Was he, at the end of day, held in the same light as a skeksis in the heart of the princess? The pool in his mind whirled. 

Then a storm hit. 

‘Gelfling!’ A piercing cry from the skeksis; the same skeksis who was shadowing him in the heart of his love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
There’s so many characters in this universe that I absolutely love so im thinking of also making a work that’s a bunch of one shots  
If you have any ideas of requests feel free to put them down in the comments   
Also guys I found a dc discord here’s the link if you wanna join the chaos https://discord.gg/RspjZZq
> 
> <3


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